


Thomas & Friends: Ryan's Ghostly Friend

by DaJoestanator



Category: Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends
Genre: Mystery, Other, Supernatural Elements, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 17:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16330427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaJoestanator/pseuds/DaJoestanator
Summary: One bad turn lands Ryan in an eerie new place with a spooky secret.





	Thomas & Friends: Ryan's Ghostly Friend

**Ryan’s Ghostly Friend**

**A Thomas & Friends Fanfiction**

**Written by Joey Turner**

**Edited by William Grubb**

       Ryan, the big Tank Engine, is one of the most helpful engines on Sir Topham Hatt’s railway. Whenever he had a job to do, no matter if it was passenger or goods work, he always pushed himself to work hard and get the job done –and he always did it with a smile. Some engines –and even his crew- worried that he worked TOO hard, but Ryan didn’t care –he was always eager to please.

       One afternoon, Ryan was chuffing back to his shed at Arlesburgh. He had been working in the yards all day rearranging trucks, and was in need of a rest… but he was still feeling restless.

       “Don’t suppose there’s any help needed down at the docks, is there?” Ryan asked his driver hopefully.

   “Not today, I’m afraid.” the driver laughed. “But you need to take it easy, old boy! You’ll melt your wheels and burst your boiler if you don’t pace yourself.”

   “I can’t help it,” pouted Ryan, “I just want to do my part!”

   “We know, we know,” snickered his fireman, “but you won’t be able to please anyone if you work yourself to scrap iron.”

   Ryan only sniffed. He was so busy fussing, that he didn’t notice the faulty points up ahead until it was too late. He found himself traveling down an old siding.

   “Oops,” said Ryan, embarrassed.

   “No harm done,” soothed his driver, “There’s still plenty of time. We’ll just see where this line goes, then see if we can take the loop back to the junction.”

   “But we better slow down,” advised the fireman, “these tracks don’t feel look very safe.”

   He was right; the tracks looked old and rusty, and they were covered in weeds and dandelions. It looked as though nobody had been down this line for a very long time. A twinge of nervousness peaked into Ryan’s tanks.

   As they puffed further and further down, Ryan finally noticed the area around them: the grass was brown and dry, and the trees were dark and twisted –not a single leaf bloomed out of them. An unfriendly wind blew through the trees, making them creak and groan as they swayed back and forth.

   “What happened here?” the driver asked. “Why does everything look so burnt?”

   “I don’t know,” replied the fireman, “there must’ve been a fire here …several years ago by the look of it; what do you think, Ryan?”

   Ryan didn’t say anything; he didn’t have the courage. Every sound sent shivers down his smokebox, and every gentle breeze of the wind rattled his dome. The further he traveled down the empty rails, the longer their journey seemed to be. Needless to say, Ryan wasn’t looking forward to what was at the end of the line.

   At last, they could see a small clearing up ahead. Ryan bravely urged forward. As they puffed into view, everyone held their breath in amazement.

   Their journey down the track had taken them to an old shunting yard; with two signal boxes, a turntable, a old rundown shed, and some fuel tankers scattered around the yard. Overgrown, brown grass completely covered the tracks, the signal boxes were covered with vines, the shed looked barren and was full of holes, and the trucks looked incredibly stiff in their places –as though they haven’t been moved in ages. Though a little grimy, the turntable still looked to be in working order… but Ryan and his crew were too engrossed in this new area to notice.

   “Fizzling fireboxes” Ryan gasped, “…How long has THIS been here?”

   “Search me,” shrugged his fireman, “Looks like nobody’s worked here in years.”

   The driver shivered, “Maybe for a good reason. I’ve got the strangest feeling that we’re not supposed to be here.”

   Ryan and his fireman agreed, “Let’s just get Ryan turned around and get out of here,” the fireman suggested.

   With that, Ryan slowly and carefully made his way towards the turntable. The table was stationed right in front of the old shed, and as Ryan inched forward, he squinted his eyes to peek through the doors. He almost thought he could see a pair of eyes looking back at him… frightened little eyes that he could barely make out.

   Ryan was about to try and call to the pair of eyes when he suddenly stopped just in front of the turntable.

   “Oh dear,” said his driver, “We’re running out of coal.”

   “See that? What’d we tell you would happen if you worked too hard?” The fireman teased. Ryan’s face went as red as a signal. He glanced back at the shed, but he couldn’t see the eyes anymore.

   “We’ll have to look for more coal before we can try to head back,” the driver sighed. He and the fireman picked up two buckets and two shovels. “We’ll go and see if there’s a coal bunker nearby. We’ll only be a minute.” With that, the crew exited the cab and went in search for more coal, leaving Ryan alone in the yard.

   Now on his own, Ryan took a look around the yard. Everything stood silent and still; the only sounds to be heard for miles were the blustery wind, the creaky old trees, and the cawing of crows as they flew above. The tanker trucks were eerily quiet as well as they stood motionless, waiting for an engine that would never come to shunt them. If Ryan had enough coal, he’d happily shunt them himself -anything to keep his mind busy while stuck in this ghastly yard. The silence was unnerving to Ryan, the poor tank engine couldn’t help feeling like he was being watched from all around him.

   Suddenly, there was a loud creaking noise. Ryan looked ahead and gasped, the shed doors were slowly opening on their own. The frightened tank engine wanted to whistle for his driver and fireman, but he didn’t have enough steam. He was about to call out to them, when the doors were finally wide open. Ryan took one look inside the shed and gasped.

   Peeking out of the doors, hidden mostly by the shed’s darkness, was a little grey tank engine with six wheels. She looked very frightened - her eyes as wide as the moon as they peered right back at Ryan.

   For his part, Ryan was amazed. He didn’t think he’d see anyone in this spooky old yard, and yet he found a timid-looking engine he had never met before. He started to feel silly for being afraid, but he mostly felt sorry for how terrified she looked -he must’ve really scared her when he came into her home. Not feeling as scared as he was, Ryan gave her the friendliest smile he could muster.

   “Hello there,” Ryan greeted politely. The new engine didn’t reply, she only stared. “Sorry if I startled you,” Ryan continued, “I got turned around back at the junction and came here by accident. Funny, I didn’t even know there WAS a shunting yard all the way out here.”

   The other engine still said nothing. She looked awkwardly down at her buffers, still looking a little shaken.

   “You don’t talk much, do you?” Ryan asked. The little engine looked ashamed, but Ryan only smiled. “That’s ok. I bet that means you’re a great listener,” he complimented. That seemed to work, as the little engine finally mustered a little half-smile. It wasn’t much, but it was a start, and Ryan felt pride bubble in his boiler.

   “Oh, where are my manners? My name is Ryan! What’s your name?” He asked.

   The little engine looked a little unsure. But with a look of contentment on her face, she started to let off steam. Slowly but surely, she puffed out of her shed and cautiously made her way to the line next to Ryan. Her wheels squeaked and moaned, her lovely grey paint was covered in moss and cobwebs, and her bunker was overflowing with unburned coal -It was almost like she hadn’t left her shed in ages. On her boiler stood a large, ruby and brass name board reading “Tiffany” on it.

   “Tiffany, eh?” Ryan said, “Well, pleased to meet you, Tiffany.” Tiffany gave a quiet smile as she stopped right beside him.

   Suddenly, a pale figure of a man stepped out of her cab -Ryan had to guess it was either her driver or fireman. The man looked to be in almost as bad shape as she was - his uniform was dirty and torn, his skin was icy and pale, and he neither smiled nor frowned. He just stood there holding a shovel and bucket in his hands as he silently walked out of Tiffany’s cab, and clambered up to her bunker. From there, he scooped up a large bucketful of coal.

   Ryan suddenly realized, “Are you giving me some of your coal?” Tiffany’s smile grew as the man droned silently towards Ryan’s bunker with the coal. “Oh, that’s ok, you don’t have to do that. My driver and fireman will be back any minute, and…”

   But the man wasn’t listening. He just wordlessly dumped the bucket of coal into Ryan’s bunker. He then slowly climbed down, turned on his heel, and walked back to his engine for another bucketful of coal… he didn’t even look at Ryan.

   “Really, I’m fine,” insisted Ryan, “I don’t want to be a bother. You need that coal more than I do, Tiffany.” Tiffany only gave Ryan another sad smile. She didn’t speak a word, but Ryan somehow knew what she was saying - she just wants to help an engine in need. The cheerful, purple tank engine knew that look all too well, so he said nothing.

   What happened then, Ryan still didn’t know. Perhaps something knocked Tiffany’s brake loose, perhaps she wanted to venture off to find more coal for Ryan, or perhaps her driver hadn’t secured her brake hard enough. Either way, Tiffany began to move on her own; she slowly crawled along the track, the man clinging to her bunker for dear life.

   Ryan was surprised, “Tiffany? What’re you doing? Stop! You can’t go without your driver” he warned. But it was no use, Tiffany only looked helplessly down at her wheels as they carried her along.

   Then there was trouble - a line of tanker trucks lay ahead… and one of them looked to be leaking.

   “Stop, Tiffany! Stop!” Ryan cried.

   ...But it was too late. Tiffany biffed into the trucks -only to come off the rails after hitting their sturdy buffers. There was worse to come - Ryan didn’t notice a small spark fly out of the little engine’s funnel. It landed on the truck… and the truck burst into flames! Ryan could only watch helplessly in terror as the line of trucks caught fire one-by-one.

   Finally, his driver and fireman returned -carrying buckets of coal. They saw the flames and wasted no time rushing to Ryan’s cab. The fireman hastily shoveled the coal into Ryan’s firebox; when the frightened tank engine had built up enough steam, he puffed backward as fast as his wheels would let him.

   “Uh… hang on, Tiffany! Don’t worry, I’m going to get help!” Ryan promised as he quickly ran out of the yard, leaving a very distraught Tiffany behind with the burning fuel trucks.

   It wasn’t long before Ryan and his crew found themselves back at the junction. They were all shaken by what had happened, but they could see the smoke rising from the distance, and knew they didn’t have much time. Then Ryan heard a familiar siren… it was Flynn, the Fire Engine. He was on his way back to the Search and Rescue Center when he noticed Ryan and the smoke.

   “Ryan, what’s going on?” Flynn asked. “Is there a fire down that line?”

   “There is!” Ryan exclaimed in alarm. “There are fuel trucks burning, my friend’s stuck in the fire, they need help now!”

   “I’m on it!” Declared Flynn. He quickly switched to his roadway wheels, and charged down the old line -Ryan hastily following.

   Ryan had to take extra care puffing down the old track… even in the face of an emergency. Luckily, he wasn’t falling too far behind from Flynn, but he was too busy worrying about what was happening to Tiffany to even notice.

   The yard came into view as the two stormed in, ready for the rescue. However, as they entered the scene, they found… absolutely nothing. There was no fire nor was there smoke, the trucks were as still as statues yet again… and both Tiffany and the pale man had both completely vanished -it was as if they were never there at all.

   “...There’s no fire?” Flynn was more confused than ever. “B-but I SAW the smoke.”

   “And I saw the fire happen right before my eyes!” Ryan chimed in. “Those trucks caught fire, Tiffany had come off the rails-”

   “Wait, who’s Tiffany?”

   “My friend,” Ryan explained, clearly losing his patience. “A dusty little grey tank engine! She came off the rails after biffing those trucks! She came out that shed over there!”

   “That shed, eh?” Asked Flynn’s driver. “We’ll just have a quick look.” The men walked over towards the old shed to investigate. While they were gone, Ryan told Flynn everything that had happened since he came down this old track.

   “I swear, I’m not making any of the stuff about Tiffany up,” Ryan said defensively. “You believe me, don’t you?”

   “Of course I do, Ryan,” Flynn reassured. “It just sounds like a lot of strange things have been going on down here… I didn’t even know this yard existed.”

   “Me neither,” said Ryan. “...I don’t like it. Feels like the minute I chuffed into this yard, nothing’s made sense.”

   “Whatever the case; after we find out what became of your missing friend, we need to go to Sir Topham Hatt about this place,” Flynn suggested. “He’ll want to know.”

   Ryan was about to agree, but he response was suddenly interrupted. Flynn’s driver slowly approached the two with his head held low. He looked up and had a somber, grim look in his eyes.

   “You might want to take a look at this, Ryan,” he said at last.

   Ryan could feel his boiler run cold under the driver’s dismal stare, but he did as he was told. He slowly chuffed towards the shed; the doors were wide open, and the crew was all huddled around the mouth of the shed. Ryan was curious about what they had found… but he wasn’t ready for what he saw next.

   Sitting in the middle of the shed was an old, lone steam engine’s boiler. It was black, burnt, and covered in cobwebs and overgrown weeds -as if it had been buried in the old shed for decades. Than Ryan noticed something that made his heart sank - lying on the ground right next to the boiler was a rusty, ruby and brass name board spelling out… ‘Tiffany’.

   Ryan’s jaw quivered as it hung open… he couldn’t even find the puff to speak. Flynn gave Ryan a sympathetic stare and stayed respectfully silent. The yard stayed uncomfortably quiet for a good 15 minutes before they all started to pack up and leave. Flynn escorted Ryan back to Arlesburgh -he didn’t want his friend to be alone after all this.

   The sun was starting to set by the time they returned to Arlesburgh; the journey was tense and silent all the way through -Ryan was too deep in thought to say anything, and Flynn didn’t want to be rude. When they arrived at the shed, they saw that Daisy was still out on her passenger runs, but Judy and Jerome, the Breakdown Cranes, were still about. The two cranes perked up when they saw their friends.

   “There you are, Ryan. We were starting to worry!” Judy said first.

   “We thought you were in an emergency and we weren’t there to help,” Jerome finished, worriedly. “Is everything alright?”

   Ryan said nothing as he backed silently into the shed, so Flynn spoke up, “He can tell you all about it, just give him time. He’s had a very eventful afternoon.” With that, Flynn said goodbye to his friends and headed back to the Search and Rescue Center.

   Once he was gone, Ryan finally took a deep breath and told Judy and Jerome everything that happened in the abandoned yard. The cranes listened with intrigue, never interrupting the story once; and when Ryan was finished, they were eerily silent.

   “I just don’t understand what happened,” Ryan exclaimed. “I know I saw her there… she gave me some of her coal! I wish I knew what was going on!”

   “Oh dear”, Judy said at last. “I think I know what happened.”

   “You do?” Ryan asked in surprise.

   “We’ve been here a lot longer than most of the engines on Sodor,” Jerome started. “We remember every emergency we’ve ever been called to…”

   “Even the ones we couldn’t make in time to,” Judy added sadly. “Like once, a long time ago, we knew a little engine named Tiffany too.”

   And this was the story Judy and Jerome told.

   “Tiffany was a shunter for a private railway right next to Sir Topham Hatt’s railway. She was one of the hardest working engines in the yard - working all day and night, no matter the weather. Sometimes she’d finish one job, and then immediately be eager to start another after that. Her driver often teased her and said that if she worked too hard, she’d run herself off the rails. Tiffany just ignored him… in hindsight, she would’ve done well to listen.

   “One fateful afternoon, she and another engine were arranging fuel trucks in the yard… but the other engine was running low on coal. Tiffany offered some of her own coal; she only wanted to make the job easier for her friend. Unfortunately, her brakes weren’t secured properly… she ended up puffing right through the yard without her crew… and bumping right into a line of the trucks.

   “The trucks were set ablaze, the fire way too close to poor Tiffany. Everyone evacuated the yard as fast as they could… but it was too late. The fire grew too out of control, the trees and fields nearby were badly burnt, and worst of all…”

   KA-BOOM!!!!!

   “…some trucks exploded. Tiffany was caught in the crossfire…. Nothing was left of her but her boiler and a pile of ash. The manager and everyone who had known the little grey engine was heartbroken by the loss of their favorite shunter; they moved her remains into the old shed like a burial, so that she could rest peacefully as a reward for everything she had done for them. Unfortunately, the world had to keep moving forward without her until the private railway finally closed down… it just couldn’t survive without its star shunter.”

   Ryan’s jaw hung open in shock. His lip quivered, and he dared not breathe a word as the cranes told their terrifying tale.

   He finally spoke up, “But… if she’s really…. Gone, how did she-”

   Judy chuckled solemnly, “She always was too stubborn to call it a day… looks like her ghost decided to stay behind to look for somebody else to help.”

   “But it always ends the same way” Jerome continued. “Looks like you were the first real friend she had in decades, Ryan.”

   Ryan said nothing for the rest of the night… he just sat in the back of the sheds, sad, alone, and with a lot to think about. Judy and Jerome saw that he was left in peace when Daisy came home.

   Word soon spread about Ryan’s little experience. Sir Topham Hatt ordered the points leading to the old yard to be ripped up -so that both Tiffany and the lost railway could be left in peace. As he looked over the construction, he heaved a heavy sigh and removed his hat remembering the old railway.

   Ryan kept to himself for a few days, trying to distract himself by keeping busy. But one day, he stopped at the junction, looked to where the tracks to the old yard once stood and sighed sadly.

   “It’s just not fair,” he said. “Tiffany was only trying to help… she didn’t deserve all this.”

   “No, she didn’t,” sympathized his driver. “These things just happen. All we can do is just be more careful… and know your limits. You need to be able to take care of yourself before you can help others.” Ryan silently agreed.

   Ryan still works hard and tries to please others. But after that fateful day, he knows when he needs to ease up a little, and he’s never afraid to ask for help anymore. Whenever he passes by the old line, he gives a moment of silence in honor of his helpful, ghostly friend, Tiffany.


End file.
